by J. D. Vaughn
Tonio opened his mouth to say something and then stopped. “And what news of the regents?” he finally asked.
Brindl hesitated. “The Queen has made a trade alliance with the Andorians. I believe an announcement will be made tomorrow.”
“What kind of trade?”
Brindl shook her head. She would not be the one to deliver the news. “I don’t know the details. But one thing I do know, Tonio, is you must tell Moth and the Shadow Guard not to defy the Queen’s orders. She will not see reason. You will be punished.”
“If enough people make her see reason, perhaps she will.”
“Don’t be foolish, Tonio, she has an army behind her.”
Tonio’s eyes darkened and turned back to the pit in front of them, where Tali sat on Moth’s shoulders, laughing and waving as they strode through the cheering crowd. Musicians strolled after them like a parade, playing a cheerful jig. Several villagers began to dance.
Brindl’s heart sank.
Everything would change tomorrow. There would be no more laughter in the quarry pit. No more music, no more dancing, no more Fray Fights.
Tomorrow, her friend Tali, tonight’s hero, would become the enemy in Quarry Town.
A lady’s maid should never involve herself in official matters of the realm. When such topics are discussed by the Queen and her counselors, it can help to pretend you are deaf or that they are speaking a foreign tongue. Concentrate on your posture instead.
—CH. N. TASCA, Palace Etiquette
Your Majesty, I beg you to reconsider,” said Jaden, kneeling before the Queen’s throne. Once again, Brindl stood in the back of the room, though the assembled party was much smaller than yesterday’s. Jaden and Xiomara had requested a private meeting this time, without counselors, without guards, without Lord Paulin. Only Lady Ona stood in the shadows behind the Queen. Xiomara stood next to Jaden.
“As commander of the Second Guard, as your chosen Queen’s Sword,” Jaden continued, “I must warn you of the damage this trade agreement will do to the realm. Our wounds from the Alcazar are still fresh. This alliance with the Andorians comes too quickly on the heels of their complicity in that betrayal.”
The Queen smirked as though highly amused, though Brindl saw fire in her eyes. “That betrayal, Commander? You mean the one perpetrated by your own father?”
Jaden’s jaw hardened. “My father died for his treason, as was just. But why should we give the Andorians amnesty for their role? Instead you mean to reward them with Tequende’s greatest riches.”
“Your father hired mercenaries. Paid soldiers. That they came from Oest Andoria is of no consequence,” the Queen said, her voice rising in anger. “Those men, those snakes, did not act on behalf of their Queen or regent. They drew their swords for your father’s riches, for the gold he stole from me, his Queen.”
Jaden clenched his fists and turned his head away.
Xiomara stepped forward. “Cousin, we have no more claim to that gold than Telendor did. By rights it belongs to the Earth Guilders. As does the pearlstone and Mother’s Wood. I must agree with Jaden. I fear this trade agreement with Andoria will not sit well with our people. We must be fair to them. We must listen.”
Queen Twenty-two rose to her feet, her body rigid with fury. Brindl resisted the urge to take a step backward.
“Listen to the weak? Take a look around you, cousin. The Far World has taken over every last realm in the Nigh World save Tequende. Why do you think that is?”
Xiomara remained rigid, though Brindl could see her heart pounding in her chest.
“Why?!” the Queen yelled.
“Because the Far World had superior strength, weapons…” Xiomara began.
“Because they are stronger. Because the Nigh World is weak!” The Queen laughed then, though there was no mirth behind it. “The Nigh World is over, do you understand, cousin? For Tequende to survive, we must adapt to Far World ways, take our lessons from them. Or did that old fool Saavedra delude you into believing that Tequende was different, that we could resist?”
At the mention of Saavedra’s name, Xiomara stood straighter, her shoulders resolute. “Saavedra was right. We can resist. We should resist. We are not Andoria. We are not Castille. We are Tequende. We are the children of Machué, the Mother of us all.”
“Enough! Ona, summon Centurio Larus at once,” the Queen demanded, then turned her icy gaze back to Jaden and Xiomara. “It was a mistake to grant you this audience, I see that now. I’ve allowed you both too many intimacies, too much confidence in your own authority. I shall not make the same mistake again.”
The doors opened and Centurio Larus strode in. He’s been waiting outside this whole time, Brindl realized. The muscled, silver-haired warrior dropped to one knee before the Queen. “At your service, Your Majesty.”
“Arise,” she ordered the hulking man, then turned to Jaden. “Give him your sword.”
Jaden shook his head, incredulous. “My Queen—”
“Give him your sword!” the Queen shouted, pointing her finger at Larus.
Jaden let out a slow, measured breath, then drew his sword, the revered Blade of Tequende, from its sheath and offered the hilt to Larus.
The centurio took the blade with a smug half smile, then bowed at the Queen. “You honor me.”
“Gather every palace guard and ready them to ride for the quarry,” the Queen said.
“Yes, Your Majesty. We will await you at the palace gates.”
“No,” she said, looking at Xiomara with a sly expression on her face. “I think not. I no longer wish to ride to the quarry. I’ve decided it shall be my cousin, the Queen-in-Waiting, who will announce the new trade agreement to the quarry workers. It will be instructive for her to assert herself as future sovereign of Tequende, will it not?”
Xiomara paled. “Please, I cannot. Please—”
“Do not beg like a dog. You are a future Queen. Learn to act like one.”
Brindl wanted to race forward, to stand next to Xiomara’s side in the face of this monster, the Queen. How could she do this?
“As for you,” the Queen continued, turning back to Jaden. “You have one day.”
“One day, Your Majesty? I don’t understand.”
“One day to say good-bye to your realm. At sunrise tomorrow you will be escorted to the border. Your service to Tequende is no longer required.”
Brindl stifled a gasp.
Only Jaden remained still. “You would exile me for offering honest counsel?” he finally said, his voice low and quiet.
“I would. Though there is another alternative if you prefer it,” the Queen said crisply. “Shall I have Larus sharpen his blade?”
The room grew silent.
The gray sky cast a leaden sheen over Quarry Town, making even the brightly painted buildings look washed-out and tired. As the palace guards, mounted three abreast, had made their way to the quarry, the Sun God, who had begun the day with a brilliant warmth, had suddenly fled the sky. Even Intiq does not wish to bear witness to the coming announcement, Brindl thought, wishing she could flee with him.
Word of their arrival had preceded them, of course, and it seemed that every last inhabitant of Quarry Town now filed into the quarry pit like ants. Brindl fought to control her pounding heart as the procession neared. Princess Xiomara had insisted on riding in the lead, with Centurio Larus on her right. Zarif, bearing the Queen’s flag, accompanied her on the left. Brindl rode directly behind them, flanked by Tali and Chey. One hundred palace guards followed, uniformed and armed.
We look like we’re marching to war, Brindl thought, her stomach turning somersaults. Perhaps we are.
She glanced at Tali in concern then, not for the first time that morning. Though her friend had not said a word during the ride, Brindl knew that Tali would be reeling from the news of Jaden’s exile. Even Chey remained quiet and brooding, his tan brow creased in worry. And they still know nothing of the coming announcement.
In fact, of their entire caval
cade, only four of them knew what was about to happen at the quarry—or at least what was about to be announced. After they had been dismissed from the Queen’s receiving room, Xiomara and Brindl had gone immediately to apprise Zarif of the situation, who had been waiting on tenterhooks for their news. “Clearly she means to punish you, to make you their scapegoat, Xiomara,” he’d said, shaking his head. “Though I see no way you can refuse.”
Even when her life had been threatened, Xiomara had remained strong, collected. But Zarif’s words had brought tears to her eyes. She rose from her chair. “I can’t go through with it. I’d rather leave here with Jaden than inflict something so cruel onto our people.”
“Don’t say that,” Zarif had said, placing his hands on her shoulders. “One day you’ll be Queen and you will right these wrongs. Your time will come. But for now, you must do as the Queen says. If she threatened her own Queen’s Sword with death, I fear she’ll have no compulsion to be lenient with whomever else gets in her way…even her own cousin. I’m sorry, Xia,” he added softly, as she sank back into her chair.
Brindl had said nothing during the exchange, but a dozen thoughts rattled inside her like caged birds trying to free themselves. How would the quarry workers respond to the announcement? What would the Shadow Guard do? Would this be all they needed to take up arms and fight back? Though she longed to flee underground and find the Diosa, to beg for help, there was no way she would abandon Xia. Not now.
The procession came to a stop at the top of the quarry, the mounted guards forming a semicircle on either side of Xiomara and her attendants. Brindl looked down into the pit, where every man, woman, and child of Quarry Town stood assembled along the ramps, draping the vast canyon like ribbons. Moth and five other men—Brindl recognized Goat and Axe among them—strode forward to the middle of the quarry. The quarry foremen, she gathered.
Xiomara dismounted, signaling everyone else to stay on horseback.
When Moth bent his knee in deference, the entire quarry followed suit, each head bowed to the marbled ground.
“Good citizens of Quarry Town,” Xiomara called, her voice loud and strong, though Brindl saw her hand tremble slightly as Zarif passed her the scroll. “I come bearing an announcement from Queen Twenty-two,” she continued, her words echoing off the pearlstone walls. “Please rise.”
Moth was slow to his feet, Brindl noticed, but every last person in the quarry waited until he had risen before doing the same. She glanced at Zarif. Though his facial expression had not changed, she saw comprehension in his eyes. Moth held great power here. His response to the announcement would be crucial. The quarry workers would take their lead from him.
Xiomara unrolled the parchment and began to read. The announcement wasted no words. “‘Effective immediately, the quarry shall operate without cease, rendering all pearlstone to the Queen for trade with our allies. A Second Guard patrol will be assigned to the quarry to monitor all operations and oversee compliance. Any man or woman who defies this mandate will be charged with treason and punished accordingly.’”
A startled murmur ran through the crowd. Brindl heard Tali swear under her breath beside her. Almost as if he heard it, too, Moth’s eyes now landed upon Tali.
Brindl felt Tali go rigid next to her. Gods help us, she prayed, fighting the urge to grab Tali’s arm, lest she race down to the pit again. She should never have let Tali fight last night. “Shhhhh, say nothing, Tali. Now is not the time,” she whispered.
Moth, whose eyes had not left Tali, finally nodded to himself, as if he had just come to some kind of understanding. “Is this the new order of Tequende, then?” he called out, stepping forward. “The Queen steals our livelihood while the Guard steals our dignity?”
“No!” cried Xiomara and Tali at the same time.
Xiomara looked at Tali in alarm, who had quickly dismounted from her horse and approached the lip of the quarry.
The crowd, many of whom now pointed at Tali in recognition, began to boo and hiss, their discontent erupting through the pit like a pot of boiling water.
Centurio Larus dismounted as well then, eyes flashing and hand on his hilt, as if he were about to take off someone’s head.
“Xiomara, let me speak,” Tali begged. “There’s been a misunder—”
“Stand down!” the princess ordered, glaring first at Tali, then at Larus. The two guards hesitated, then did as they were told, each taking a step backward. Brindl could feel Tali struggling for control below her. Zarif glanced quickly at Chey, who placed a firm hand on Tali’s shoulder.
Xiomara raised her arms to quiet the crowd, though a ripple of angry murmurs continued until Moth raised his own hand. Xiomara cleared her throat. “I entreat you, all of you,” she said, her eyes leaving Moth to scan the quarry, “to obey the Queen’s orders, to make this sacrifice for our realm, to keep peace in Tequende for the glory of the Gods.”
“You would invoke the Gods in this matter?” Moth called. “Are the Gods to feed us then? How are we to eat if you take away our only source of earning?”
Xiomara blanched. Brindl closed her eyes. Why had they not thought of this question earlier? So stupid of us, she thought, stealing another glance at Zarif. She could see the remorse in his eyes and knew he felt the same. We didn’t think of it because we never have to worry where our next meal comes, those of us shut away in the comforts of the palace.
Xiomara stood straight and raised her arms again. “On my solemn word as Queen-in-Waiting, you will be fed in exchange for your labors,” she replied with confidence, though Brindl saw the worry in her face. The princess now spoke with no authority on the matter, no permission from the Queen to make such promises. Brindl had a feeling this would not go well later.
The crowd hushed completely then, waiting for Moth to speak. Once again he took his time, his steely gaze pivoting back and forth between Xiomara and Tali. Not once did he lock eyes with Centurio Larus, as if the man’s presence meant nothing to him.
“Please,” Xiomara said, extending her arms to the crowd. “Please.”
She is begging, Brindl thought. The Queen will not like this.
“For Tequende!” Centurio Larus yelled, raising an angry fist as his words echoed along the pearlstone.
The crowd did not return the rally cry. Instead, silence fell like a hammer.
Moth turned his back and walked away.
Larus stepped forward as if to charge the man, but Princess Xiomara stayed him with one gesture, raising her hand.
Then, the entire crowd followed suit, turning their backs to the princess as Moth had. In every direction, the dark hair and plain dress of an entire village quietly filed out of the quarry. Only the scuffle of feet and the echo of a babe in arms gave any indication of so many thousands nearby.
Brindl shivered, as if caught in the air before a violent storm, pregnant with destruction.
No matter your position in the palace, never misunderstand your first loyalty. Everyone—from the highest counselor to the lowest kitchen maid—serves the Queen foremost, no one else. All actions, words, and service should be guided by this simple principle.
—CH. N. TASCA, Palace Etiquette
The Queen sat on her throne, again. Brindl noticed that she was reverting to this place of power more often of late. Perhaps she meant to intimidate others from her dais. It forced those speaking to her to look up. Princess Xiomara looked diminutive next to Centurio Larus and withered in front of the Queen’s escalating rage.
“My Queen.” Larus kneeled and rose at the foot of the dais. Jaden had never made such displays of humility, unless it was part of a formal ceremony. The Queen obviously enjoyed her new Sword’s formality, a satisfied mask painted on her face. Xiomara curtsied as custom required but did not speak.
“Did you announce my plans to the quarry workers? We shall commence the new schedule at dawn.” The Queen motioned to a nearby servant who brought a tray of sweets to her. She plucked one from the colorful array but did not eat it, placing it next to h
er steaming cup of tea.
“It was announced, as you required,” Xiomara said, with a slight pause. “It was not well received.”
The Queen waved her hand as if swatting an invisible pest. “No matter,” she said, then turned her gaze on Centurio Larus. “I trust you took care of any dissent.”
“I would have arrested their leader and whipped him right then,” Larus said, glancing at Princess Xiomara, “but she did not allow it.”
“Because it was unnecessary,” Princess Xiomara said quickly. “The man didn’t threaten me, only turned to leave.”
“He turned his back on your words,” Centurio Larus corrected, looking at the princess with clear disdain.
“You do not mean to say he turned his back on her while she spoke?” the Queen asked, her voice incredulous.
“Not only him, but the entire crowd,” Larus reported, obviously pleased to be bringing his version to the Queen. “They all turned their backs on her.” He paused then, and pressed his lips together. “Which means they turned their backs on you, Your Majesty.”
Twenty-two shot out of her throne. The small table next to her wobbled and crashed to the pearlstone floor, the delicate plate and cup shattering. The servants, who normally would have raced to retrieve the mess, did not move. The Queen clenched her hands, then released them, her cheeks red with anger.
“They dare turn their backs on the royal family?”
“They dare worry how to feed their children, how they will survive,” Xiomara said, her voice even, as if she had not just witnessed the outburst of the Queen.
“We are done here. Larus…” The Queen turned her gaze back to the centurio. “Seize the quarry at dawn. Use force if necessary. Deal with traitors who disrespect my orders immediately.”
“You do not mean to strike down your own people?” Xiomara asked.
