Innocence Lost: A story from the kingdom of Saarland (For Queen And Country Book 1)

by Patty Jansen

  “And you, of course, would have an excellent idea what it’s like to be poor.” His voice sounded sarcastic.

  “I’ve never been poor, but I talk to people who are. If it wasn’t for the Church many of them would die in winter.”

  “That has nothing to do with the way they treat people with magic. Poverty is a solvable, petty issue. Magic is mysterious, dangerous and it won’t let itself be denied. If you ignore it, it grows stronger. You cannot banish magic, you must use it.” He trailed a finger through the air, describing a path that traced the profile of her face, but his finger never touched her.

  Johanna shivered. He put in words what she had thought many times.

  “In Gelre, we use magic in government, and at court. We could use you. All of you with magic. If those men of the Church become too much of a problem, you will be welcome with us.”

  “Is this why you’re here? To ‘rescue’ people like me from the Church?”

  He chuckled. “We’re here because we do not want our allies to fall to an institution that goes back to burning and drowning witches.”

  Which didn’t answer her question. She wanted to ask him if he thought that persecution of shepherds, as happened in many eastern countries, was any better than persecution of witches, but it didn’t seem so important now. Persecuted in many lands, the Church of the Triune had found fertile ground in Saardam because Shepherd Romulus offered the king solace after the tragedy of Princess Celine’s death. A melting pot of people and cultures of the Western Lands, Saardam lacked a clear moral direction. The Church of the Triune fitted in that gap. That was all there was to it.

  She walked around the pond so that she faced the head of the Holy God. What had he said again? A sanctimonious piece of shit? How dare he talk like that about people’s deep beliefs?

  The subtle sounds of the night drifted on the air: the soft slap of water against the quay wall on the other side of the wall around the garden, the faint sound of music, talk and laughter that came from the palace at their back. The neighing of a horse in the palace forecourt where all the noblemen’s horses waited until the party had finished and they could take their masters back home again.

  Kylian said softly, “You know you’re not like any woman I’ve ever met?”

  Johanna turned her head sharply to him. “Then you haven’t met any real women, only dishrags.”

  He laughed, and it served to make her even more annoyed. “I travel all over the western lands and have not met a woman who is both pretty and in possession of magic skills. You’re so wild and untamed, I can feel the magic flow. I could teach you to use your magic properly. Then nothing you ever wanted would be out of your reach.”

  “No, I don’t want that. That’s manipulating people. That’s how magic gets a bad name.”

  “You’re such a fierce one”

  “When people annoy me enough.”

  “I annoy you?”

  “Yes. When you say things like that, and when you’re rude about our beliefs. What do you even know about—”

  She started to walk away. This man was an insufferable arrogant prick. But she didn’t get far.

  “Wait.” He grabbed her wrist.

  “What? You want to apologise?” She tried to yank her arm out of his grip but he was very strong. “Go ahead. I’m waiting.”

  He paused, facing her. Dark, brooding, his gaze intense. An envelope of air around him breathed his male scent. For a while, the only sound was that of his breathing. A breeze picked up and blew a strand of his hair forward over his shoulder. The tips of it tickled on the bare skin of her upper chest.

  She pulled at her arm again. “If you’re so honourable, you would let me go. My father will come looking for me any time now.”

  His face showed mock surprise. “Oh? I thought you would be too mature for these sorts of tricks. But you can always become like one of those dumb ladies inside.” He put on a high voice. “Let me go or I’m going to scream.”

  “I can scream if you want me to.”

  “Be my guest. Scream.”

  He took a step back, while still holding on to her arm.

  There was no way she was going to give him that satisfaction. She tried to twist out of his grip. Her voice came out as a grunt. “Let me go.”

  She twisted her arm further, sure she’d have bruises tomorrow. But the only effect of her struggle was that she came closer to him and his grip tightened. He laughed.

  “You’re doing that all wrong. You have to hold my wrist, like so.”

  His other hand took hold of her free hand and placed it on the arm that held hers.

  “Grab it tight so that I can’t move.”

  She did, although she had no illusion that he could still move as much as he wanted.

  “Now twist sharply.”

  She did as he said and her arm came free.

  “See, that was easy.”

  “You let me go.”

  “If you do this quickly, it will take most people by surprise. Remember it for when an unwanted suitor tries to grab you. Want to try again?”

  Johanna hesitated. This was one strange man. Dangerous, challenging, mysterious, crackling with magic.

  She faced him, her chest heaving with deep breaths from the struggle. He returned her stare, unwavering and not in the least flustered.

  Johanna’s cheeks felt like they were on fire.

  He said, his voice low, “Has a man ever kissed those ruby lips of yours?”

  “What business is that of yours?”

  “It’s more interesting for me if it’s the first time for you.”

  “Who said you could kiss me?”

  He laughed, trailing his finger over her cheek. His touch made her shiver. “Twenty-three and never been kissed?”

  “Twenty-four.” She looked defiantly into his eyes. He was talking to her as if she were a little girl, thinking she was afraid of men, huh?

  “See, I’m not holding you against your will.” He spread his hands. “You can run to your father if you want. Run, little girl, run!”

  Johanna didn’t move.

  Kylian leaned closer, enveloping her in his warmth. His lips brushed hers fleetingly. He smelled of leather, smoke and fire.

  “Like that?” He was teasing her.

  “That’s fine by me,” she whispered. “I’m not afraid of you.”

  “Well, there’s plenty of time to establish the truth of that.”

  He took her in a rough grip and pressed his mouths on hers. His lips forced hers apart and his tongue came into her mouth. She hadn’t expected that, and let out involuntary moan. She struggled to breathe. His hands slid up her sides, over the tight bodice of the dress.

  He let go and stared at her in the moonlight. He chuckled. “Still not afraid?”

  Johanna gasped for breath but shook her head, her heart still thudding. Was that what kissing was like? It was disgusting.

  But it was naughty. It was like what men said about smoking. You hated it the first time, thought it was all right the second and after that you couldn’t stop doing it.

  He was still holding her waist, looking down into her face, his lips slightly parted.

  That second kiss was coming up right now. He covered her mouth with his and now she knew what was coming, didn’t flinch or try to pull back. She relaxed in his arms.

  Yes, that was much better.

  He chuckled. “My, you’re learning fast.” His lips brushed the tip of her nose. “You’re so pretty, wasting your life in this silly provincial town. Since you’re not going to marry the prince, would you like to come back with me? I could teach you magic. You could talk to Rinius, be his assistant, even. We could . . . continue this activity undisturbed.” He ran his tongue along the line of her jaw.

  Johanna shivered.

  Get out of here, start anew, what an opportunity. She’d disappointed her father by refusing to marry Roald. She didn’t want Octavio Nieland. She didn’t want to marry at all, but if she had to, why not someone fr
om outside the stifling Saardam society?

  He kissed her again, this time longer. She tried replying to him, tickling his tongue with hers. He chuckled without breaking the kiss. His hands raked through her hair.

  Then, suddenly, there was a sound she recognised: the ringing of church bells, the clanging distorted by the breeze.

  At this time of day?

  Johanna stiffened. Kylian let her go.

  “What’s going on?” she whispered.

  He said nothing, but turned his face into the wind. His eyes were alert, his face tense.

  “Can you feel anything?” She still didn’t know what type of magic he had. Something to do with the forest. Maybe he had wind magic, too. Was it possible for one person to have more than one kind of magic?

  She repeated, “What’s going on?” Her heart was thudding.

  He looked sideways, and then without a word, bolted down the path.

  She called after him, “Hey!”

  But he didn’t listen or stop. He jumped into the hedge that shielded the garden’s outer wall from view, pulled himself up over the wall and down the other side, leaving Johanna standing stunned and alone in the garden.

  She clamped her hands around herself. When had the air become so cold?

  Distant sounds drifted from the city: the barking and howling of dogs. The neighing of horses. People shouting.

  A cat raced through the garden, yowling, with all its hair standing on end. Goodness, what possessed that animal?

  Feeling shaken, Johanna climbed onto the mound where they had looked at the stars so that she could see over the wall. There was an orange glow in the city, a street or so back from the harbour. Vicious flames rose from the roof of one of the canal houses. That was nowhere near her house, was it? She traced the outlay of the streets in her mind. She didn’t think it was in her street.

  There was a soft sound of footsteps behind her. Johanna turned around.

  Someone had come into the garden from the gallery and now walked up the steps to where she stood. A woman, thin and shrouded in black. Her tread was light, as if she floated.

  Johanna curtsied before the queen. “My excuses for being in your garden, Your Majesty. I was hot and—”

  “What is going on in town?” Queen Cygna’s voice was sharp, almost nervous, and with the distinct accent of the northern lands. She gasped and raised a dainty hand to her mouth. “Fire.”

  Johanna turned around. The fire had spread. Flames licked the roof of one of the harbour-side warehouses. “Is that Master Deim’s warehouse?”

  The Queen couldn’t answer that. She probably didn’t know who Master Deim was.

  “Listen to the poor horses,” the queen said.

  The breeze brought sounds of neighing and men shouting and dogs barking. In fact, the horses had been nervous all afternoon. There was magic in the air and she couldn’t feel it.

  “With your permission, Your Majesty, I think we should go inside,” she said, and Queen Cygna did not object. She walked silent next to Johanna on the path towards the palace. There were things Johanna wanted to say, but didn’t know how to broach them. About Roald, about Father, about herself. But she couldn’t find the right words. The queen had seemed so very fragile and upset at Roald’s misbehaviour. She didn’t want to risk saying something inappropriate.

  Just outside the door, the queen held Johanna back.

  “Thank you.” Her voice was soft.

  “Your Majesty?” Thank you, what for?

  The queen hesitated. Seen through the black veil, her face was exquisite, her skin soft and pale, as yet marred by few lines, her eyes the clearest blue. A few wisps of flaxen hair peeped out from underneath the black lace.

  “Roald is a good boy. He gets confused easily and takes instructions literally. He doesn’t know when it is appropriate to say certain . . . things. He gets these ideas into his head and wants to talk about them with everyone. I’m afraid his father did some explaining about what’s involved in getting married, and he took an unexpected interest to certain private parts of it. I’m truly sorry for anything upsetting that he might have said to you. But I say again, even if he is unusual, he is a good man and would never harm anyone.”

  “I understand, Your Majesty.”

  “No. You do not.” She patted Johanna on the arm and then froze, looking over Johanna’s shoulder. “Look.”

  As they both watched, a creature sleek and agile like a cat, but made entirely out of fire, jumped from the flames onto another roof, setting it alight with a touch of its tail.

  Queen Cygna gasped. “Fire demons.” The firelight made her face look pale. Her eyes were wide.

  “I need to go to my father. His warehouse is somewhere over there.”

  “Yes, you should do that.” The queen’s eyes were wide. “But after you have done that, you should get out of here, and you should warn everyone to do the same. You cannot fight these creatures and their masters.”

  Johanna’s heart jumped. “Your Majesty, do you know what those creatures are and where they come from?” She saw snarling demons shown to her by Loesie’s basket. A chill went over her. The prick of magic made the air crackle. Loesie. She was in the barn. She was either possessed and part of the evil, or she was in danger down there near the fire.

  The queen said in a low voice, “My husband and his advisors played with things they didn’t understand. The Burovian priests were blind for money, and promised things that were not theirs to promise. My husband gave them money, even though I told him it was a bad idea, but like so many times, the voice of a woman doesn’t count. He didn’t listen. He was too keen to have Celine back, and he believed that they could resurrect her.”

  “He was talking to a necromancer?”

  The queen nodded, her face sad. “Whether or not he could do as his disciples said remains to be seen. I don’t think so, but he’s a powerful magician.”

  “Who is this man?”

  “I never saw him, and I don’t think my husband did either. We dealt with his followers. They call themselves the dawn order, but they’re nothing more than practitioners of dark magic. I told him not to get involved, but he was too impatient.”

  “Are these priests from the sanatorium where Roald was?”

  “No, no, not at all. Those good men have also come into danger because of this ill-considered deal. They’re also angry with us, with good reason. The order of the dawn has performed evil rituals in the forest that have disturbed the demons. It was my hope that our withdrawal of Roald could stop their anger, but it’s already too late. Humans and magical creatures both come under the influence of anger. Only humans are capable of forgiveness. You must run and save yourself while you still can. All of us are lost already. Wherever we go, they will find us. Don’t trust any easterners.”

  And then, silently and much more quickly than Johanna would have expected for a royal, she was gone.

  ‎

  Chapter 12

  * * *

  JOHANNA’S HEART still beat high in her throat when she came back into the main hall, where the festivities continued as if nothing had happened. The air was heavy with the smell of sweat and alcohol. Waltzing couples filled the dance floor. The music, talk and laughter drowned out the shouts and neighs from outside. The doors on the far side of the hall were closed, so none of the stewards had yet come in to warn their masters and no one had seen the fire.

  Don’t trust any easterners. There were easterners everywhere in the crowd, amongst the guests and the servants, and in the distinguished party at the dais. There was no way that they were all bad, and there was no way to determine if any of them had knowledge of what was happening outside.

  The king sat alone at the dais, flanked by two empty chairs. Why didn’t Queen Cygna warn her husband about the fire?

  Father sat on the other side of the hall, talking to Master Deim. He didn’t look like he’d missed her, but she was sure he had. She felt guilty and horrible all in one. It was not good for business to
let feelings rule your actions, Father would often say, and she had well and truly done that. However, there were more urgent issues to deal with now.

  Johanna pushed herself across the dance floor. “Excuse me, excuse me. Please let me through.”

  That earned her a few turned heads and surprised expressions. One nobleman said something lewd about the prince, but fortunately he was too drunk for his words to make sense.

  Johanna was about halfway when the doors to the hall burst open and a couple of palace guards ran in. The panicked neighs of horses drifted into the hall through the doors which the guards had left open. People stopped dancing. The orchestra played on, but several of the musicians were looking at the open door instead of the conductor. A couple of noblemen ran into the foyer.

  One of the guards was talking to the king, who nodded. His face looked pale and old. He dismissed the guard with a wave of his hand and rose.

  The music stopped. Now even the last couples stopped dancing. Some people made complaining noises, others wondered aloud about the time.

  “Friends, family,” the king said. Even his voice sounded tired. “It seems like it is time to end the festivities. Please go home and be safe.”

  Two guards accompanied him down the steps.

  People around Johanna protested.

  “What? It’s too early.”

  “What’s going on?”

  The king said no more. He made his way through the hall surrounded by the royal guards to fend off the questions.

  Johanna felt revolted. How had the country ended up with such a weak man for a king?

  He was not going to tell the people of the predicament he was in? He was not going to warn them about what he’d done or apologise? Pray for their safety? Even tell them that the city was on fire?

  The orchestra members were packing their instruments and the first people were already leaving the hall.

  She’d better go and find Father.

  But now that everyone was agitated and looking around for their friends and family, she couldn’t see him anywhere. Not in the hall and not in the entrance foyer, where courtiers were playing business as usual, handing the noble lords and ladies back their coats and cloaks. A line of people filed out of the entrance. A concerned murmur filled the space where previously there had been music and merrymaking.