Silverlight

by Jesberger, S. L.

  “Did you?” Garai laughed, spraying blood all over both of us. The rest of his comment was garbled.

  “Speak your last words, you fucking tyrant.” I buried Promise two inches deep into the soft stucco of the wall, effectively pinning him like an insect specimen.

  “You’ll never get out of here alive,” Garai whispered.

  “So what? You won’t know. You’ll be dead. I survived you.”

  “I should’ve…killed you when I had the…chance.”

  “Too late now.” I had more to say, but he shuddered once and sagged forward on my sword.

  I withdrew Promise from his body and dropped him. Perfect timing. The battered door had fallen in just as he’d breathed his last.

  And the first one through was Magnus, the bolt from the crossbow still lodged in his back.

  “What are you doing here?” I rushed into Magnus’s arms and crushed him against me. “How did you get out of the dungeon?”

  “Deductive reasoning,” he said airily. “When I saw the dead woman in the next cell, I–”

  “Just about pissed down your leg, thinking it was me,” I finished for him.

  “Exactly.” He laughed. “Then I noticed the horseshoe nail I’d pushed into the bottom of my boot was gone.”

  A wave of soldiers spilled through the open door. I pulled my remaining blade and turned Magnus to face them. “We may have to fight our way out of here.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so.”

  “What?”

  “They’re your soldiers now.”

  “My soldiers?”

  “Yours. I hid while they chopped the door down. Then, when they broke through, I forced them all back with my trusty broom handle and my shield and told them to have a care. Pentorus’s crown was about to change hands, and they’d better not harm their queen.” Magnus glanced at Garai and grinned. “I’ll be damned if I wasn’t right.”

  “You did this?” My eyes narrowed with the question.

  “Of course not. You know how this works.”

  I ran one hand over my head and aimed the dagger at the soldiers. “How what works?”

  “You’ve claimed the throne of Pentorus by right of conquest.” Magnus laughed. “You’re their new queen, and they know it.”

  “But…I’m not queen material.”

  “You’ll have to be.” A fussy, gray-haired man in a long blue and burgundy robe parted the soldiers and stepped between us. “As you are now Queen Kymber of Pentorus.”

  “Who are you?”

  “I am the Minister of Law and Regulation, Your Majesty. Sint Seromith is my name.” The man bowed.

  It took me a moment to understand that “Your Majesty” was me. “What? No! I don’t want to be . . .”

  I let the words trail off. The soldiers lowered their heads in a gesture of respect as they waited for me to work through my shock.

  There was danger in Sint Seromith’s narrowed eyes. An outright refusal suddenly seemed like a bad idea.

  I looked up at Magnus. “Is this true?”

  “It’s true in Pentorus.” I saw apprehension in the lines of his face. “You’ve earned the throne by killing Garai.” His gaze flicked to Seromith then back to me, acknowledging my thoughts with a bob of his head.

  I had to think fast or we’d never get out of this place.

  “Well, then. I suppose we’ll have to prepare for a coronation.” I faced Seromith. “Magnus and I need a moment alone.”

  “But…” Seromith frowned.

  I held up a hand to silence him. “I insist, Seromith. I want a healer sent to us as soon as you can find one. And you’ll see that two horses are fully packed with provisions for us.”

  “You can’t leave,” Sint Seromith said. “It’s the law.”

  If I had any doubts about his intentions, he laid them to rest with his tone, an icy wind blowing over already frozen ground. He would hold us against our will if I couldn’t sweet talk him.

  I swatted his arm. “Well, of course I’m not leaving. Who wouldn’t want to be the queen of such a fascinating land? This is just so…so unexpected. Surely you won’t begrudge me a trip home, so I can get my affairs in order.”

  “Affairs?”

  “Yes, affairs. I have pets I don’t want to leave behind, servants who must be dismissed. I’ll need to arrange for the sale of my house. Such boring details, but they must be dealt with.”

  “That’s what I do,” Seromith said. “I’ll accompany you.”

  I tried not to choke. “No, no. I need you to stay behind and keep order. After all, a change of this magnitude can be dangerous. You seem like a level-headed man who knows his way around a coup. I’m sure my kingdom will be in good hands with you at the helm.”

  He stared, his face like stone, and said nothing.

  “Stop worrying, Sint. I’ll be back before you have time to miss me.” I canted my head. “Tell me, do I have a crown to wear?”

  “You do,” Sint answered stiffly.

  “Will you send someone along with it when you send the healer? I want to make sure it fits.” Sint nodded and relaxed a little. So did I.

  I turned my attention to the soldiers standing in the back of the room. “Do I need to administer an oath of allegiance, or will you transfer your loyalty to me without question?”

  A tall soldier stepped forward and bowed. “You have our undying loyalty, Queen Kymber. Now and forever.”

  “Very nice.” I took my new minister by the shoulders and turned him toward the door. “Now if you’ll just go and look up a healer for my friend, we can be on our way. Don’t be slow with those horses either. The faster we go, the faster we’ll be back.”

  Sint bowed and crowded the soldiers through what remained of the doorway. Once they were gone, I put my hands on Magnus’s chest. “Thank you.”

  “For what? I didn’t save you from anything.”

  “For loving me. For believing in me.”

  “Why would I do otherwise?” He took a quick glance at the carnage and debris. “How close was it in here? I heard some serious crashes.”

  “Oh, close enough.” I turned to look at the body along the wall. “Garai was terribly determined, but so was I.”

  Magnus didn’t need to know it had all come down to one spectacular, impossible maneuver that was sure to fail and hadn’t.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “Not really. I took a throwing star to the shoulder. I think it was mostly blocked by Tavia’s jacket.”

  “Tavia?”

  “The dead woman in my cell.”

  He rubbed his chin with two fingers. “Who was she?”

  A knock saved me from having to explain. “I’ll tell you all about it later. Enter!”

  A wide-eyed young woman carrying a wooden box came into the room. “Are you the healer?” I asked.

  “I am, Your Majesty.” She averted her eyes and curtsied. “My name is Mona Tavenil.”

  “Mona, my friend Magnus somehow managed to get in the way of a crossbow.” I righted the throne and sat him down. “Will you take a look at him?”

  She curtsied again. “I will, Your Grace.”

  He moaned and groaned as Mona removed the bolt and patched him up. I held his hand through all of it.

  Later, when she was done, I asked him to steady the throne while I retrieved our swords from the wall.

  I cradled Silverlight in my arms and allowed the tears to flow. It had taken the better part of eleven years, but she was mine again.

  “You truly don’t intend to come back here and rule, do you?” Magnus asked after we’d found Fitz and Lady Gray still hobbled in the woods. We transferred our things as fast as we could and allowed the Pentorian horses to go free.

  “Of course not. I prefer to be the queen of Seacrest.” I reached into my saddlebag and withdrew the golden, jewel-encrusted crown Sint had placed upon my head. “I even have a proper crown to wear.”

  “How…? Magnus’s jaw dropped. “How did you ever get it past Seromith?”

>   “A little sleight of hand and a whole lot of lying.”

  “Kymber, you stole the Pentorian crown. This could have serious ramifications for you. For us. For Calari.”

  “I didn’t steal it. I’m their queen. It’s mine by rights.” I gave him a knowing smile.

  “What are you up to?”

  “I’ve thought of a way to refuse the throne and still keep the rest of Calari safe from whatever haunts the Shadowlands.”

  “Oh?”

  “While we’re in Dorso picking up the girls, I intend to have Queen Nalhai’s scribe draw up papers of abdication.” I spun the crown on one finger. “I will happily sign those papers, and then I will place this crown upon her beautiful head and tell her the entire kingdom of Pentorus is hers. Laiia said the Yasri are fierce warriors, and there are certainly enough of them to hold both borders. They could use more land, more resources. Problem solved.”

  “But Seromith . . .”

  “Will have to do as his queen orders or pay the price. Pentorus is still part of Calari, thus bound by their laws and conventions. It’s a good thing for me that Calari recognizes renunciation of the throne by a lawful monarch. I don’t think Nalhai will put up with Sint’s nonsense, do you?”

  “Gods, you are such a little schemer.” Magnus threw his head back and laughed. “Tell me – do I have to keep an eye on my valuables? My paintings and silverware?”

  “It’s only your heart I hope to steal, Tyrix.”

  “Already done.” Magnus gave another happy laugh. “Let’s get our daughters and go home.”

  “That sounds wonderful.” I lifted my face into the dying rays of the sun and closed my eyes.

  Two precious daughters and a man I adored. Silverlight was strapped to my hip. Promise was a solid weight against my back.

  I could not – would not – ask for more.

  EPILOGUE: KYMBER

  “Mother! She’s hitting me with her sword again!” I could hear Tori’s outrage ring across the patio.

  I ceased training and sheathed Silverlight, tipping my head to listen. Seconds later, Mia’s softer, higher voice floated to me: “Then run. Run when I say so.”

  They were quite a pair, our daughters. One, every inch a lady. The other, rough and tumble and ready to hack the heads off dragons.

  I would be the disciplinarian today, since my new husband was in Adamar, picking up a saddle for Tori’s pony.

  The girls arrived at my side in short order. Tori’s eyes were aflame with indignation, Mia’s wide with feigned innocence.

  Ah, yes. Quite a pair. I loved them both more than life itself, but I had to intercede in their argument before someone got hurt. Tori carried quite a few bruises from the short practice sword Magnus had cobbled together for Mia.

  Mia’s injured hand had healed beautifully, thanks to the Yasri healer. Koram had worked magic, but I knew my child’s hand would never be what it was, nor what it could have been.

  That made us two of a kind. Mia had favored her injured hand for a long time, but all that changed when she saw me training outside, using my scarred hand.

  “Me too,” she’d said. “I fight too.”

  “Watch me first,” I insisted. “Then I’ll train you, if you want.”

  She watched me like a hawk for weeks. When Magnus gave her the little practice sword, she began to mimic my parry and thrust to the best of her ability, quickly picking up the basics. My youngest daughter had real talent when it came to swinging a blade.

  Tori, the scholar, bloomed in our care, like a flower planted in rich soil. Magnus took her to school on Fitz every morning and went to get her in the afternoon. Her last school report had been nearly perfect, so good she’d earned herself a pony. She’d chosen Pudge, one of the miniatures Magnus bred here. Tori and Pudge had taken to one another like wind and waves. Life was good.

  I bent to Mia. “Don’t hit your sister with your sword. Why don’t you go and fight with the tree instead?”

  “Silly.” Mia gave me a comical look. “Trees can’t run.”

  “You should practice on things that stand still first. Chasing comes later.” I tucked her under the chin. “I’ll let you chase me tomorrow. How does that sound?”

  “All right,” Mia said. “But you can’t run too fast or I won’t catch you.”

  “I won’t run too fast. Go and clean up for supper. We’ll eat as soon as your father comes back with Tori’s saddle.”

  Mia obediently scampered away, her thin legs carrying her toward a smiling Mrs. Toolwin, waiting in the doorway.

  I focused on Tori. “You should–”

  “I know what you’re going to say, but I don’t want to fight.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t like it. It hurts.”

  I knelt down in front of her. “You don’t have to fight if you don’t want to, Tori. You do have to know enough to defend yourself from those who might want to harm you. Do you understand the difference?”

  A solemn nod was my answer. Poor thing. She’d seen too much when the slavers destroyed their village. I kissed her forehead and smiled. “Not today though. In fact, there’s your father now.”

  Magnus and Fitz were small dots on the horizon. Tori ran off, calling, “Father! Father! You’re home!” She flew toward Magnus with open arms.

  I cupped my belly. I hadn’t told my husband yet, as I’d just confirmed it for myself. We’d be adding another little one to our family in the spring. Son or daughter, it didn’t matter to me. And I knew it wouldn’t matter to him.

  That’s the funny thing about love. There’s always more and more and more. More than enough for everyone.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Sherry Jesberger lives in central Pennsylvania with her husband Gordon. They are the parents of three daughters. In addition to writing, she enjoys gardening, reading, hybridizing, and genealogy.

  For updates on upcoming books, or just to chat, you can keep in touch with her here:

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/SLJesberger

  Website: www.sherryjesberger.com

  Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/sljesberger

  Sherry’s covers are designed by her daughter Kerry Hynds of Hynds Studio.

  Website: http://hyndsstudio.com/

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/hyndsstudio

  Kerry has a B.S. Degree in Fine Arts/Graphic Design from Clarion University of Pennsylvania. She and her twin sister Kelly are also the authors and illustrators of the children’s book “A Thief in Sunnyside.”